Three Times Lucy Pevensie Saved Her Siblings' Lives
by Ravenclaw Black Mamba
Summary: And one time they saved hers. Queen Lucy the Valiant is first and foremost a loving, protective sister. This is a tale about just three of the times she's saved her siblings' lives, and one time they returned the favour.
1. Peter

**Peter**

The awful scene of war. The screams of dying men, women and animals. The cloying stench of blood and carnage. This painful screen of war assaulted Lucy as she fought her way through the lines of Calormen swordsmen with her twin knives. Her dark hair whipped around her head as she spun and ducked, slashed and stabbed. The enemy warriors never took her seriously, quick to dismiss the slight, petite 16-year-old girl as a threat. But Lucy was no mere 16-year-old girl. She was a warrior and a queen, and above all, a loving, protective sister. Those that dared to threaten her beloved family rarely made it out alive. Aslan Himself had not crowned her Queen Lucy the Valiant for nothing.

As her daggers made a path through the opposing army, Lucy's eyes searched the battlefield for her eldest brother Peter. _Bloody, selfless, noble prat!_ She complained to herself as she spotted him. _He's gone and put himself in trouble again to protect some Narnian Lord. Honestly, Peter, they became lords for a good reason; or are you forgetting that the title of Lord is not hereditary?_

Lucy sighed to herself, adjusted her grip, and charged forward once more, angling her path so that she would meet with Peter in very little time. An enemy stepped into her field of vision, a cruel smirk on his face. _This man,_ Lucy thought, _is not expecting much resistance from me in the way of fighting._ Lucy allowed a fierce smile to grace her features. _Well, he thought wrong._ She stepped closer to him and brought her left hand up to grasp the other's right wrist, twisting it with enough force that a pained cry escaped his lips as his blade clattered to the floor. She pivoted neatly on one foot and lunged, nestling the blade of her dagger in the side of her opponent. The man gasped and crumpled to the floor, and Lucy didn't hesitate to slide her knife free and continue on her path to the eldest Narnian monarch.

But as she quickly lifted her gaze to light upon her brother, her breath caught in her throat as she realized that he was a moment away from death. A treacherous, cowardly Calormen soldier had faked his own death in order to escape the bite of the High King's sword Rhindon and was sneaking around his back to stab him from behind. Lucy gave an agonised scream of " ** _Pete!_** " but she could tell it was too late for him to react. As her older brother met her gaze with those warm brown eyes, time stood still, and Lucy knew what to do. She stepped forward with her left foot, brought her right hand up and breathed in: once, twice, three times. Then, as she exhaled the third breath, she drew her hand back and _threw_ her knife at the man.

He never saw it coming.

" _Lu!_ " Peter gasped. "Where did you _learn_ that?" The surprised and grateful young man favoured his sister with a proud, loving smile.

"Questions later." Was the disgruntled reply. "We have a war to win."

And so saying the young queen charged into battle once more, letting loose a wild, clear cry as she went, rallying her troops and strengthening the hearts of those with honour, like the phoenixes of legend (though Lucy was very much alive and real).

High King Peter allowed himself a grin at his sister's antics, then charged after her, yelling his own fearsome song.


	2. Susan

**Susan**

"Come on Lucy, come ride with me, do! We'll have ever so much fun together!"

Lucy sighed theatrically at her sister.

"Very well Susan," she acquiesced. "But we'd better go along the beach or else!"

Her sister giggled at the half-hearted threat Lucy issued.

The two Pevensie sisters escaped to the stables of Cair Paravel's eastern wing and saddled their favoured steeds: for Susan, a sweet and gentle young mare called Jubilee, and for Lucy, a spirited filly by the name of Mirum With the two horses ready with their harness and tack, the royal sisters mounted and headed out of the courtyard at a trot, the hooves of the animals beating out a steady tattoo in the crisp Narnian spring air.

"Ahh, Su, I can't _tell_ you how glad I am to be away from all those stuffy courtiers with their stupid protocols and such. I'm 16! Surely I should be allowed to let my hair down every so often? I mean _honestly!_ "

Lucy's sister gave a light, tinkling laugh. "Lucy, my dear sister, are you forgetting that you are a Queen? Because of your station in life, you are expected you are expected to conduct yourself with more decorum than your average teenaged girl. Besides, Aslan knows some teenage girls ought to conduct themselves more respectably than they do, especially when they are around our brothers!"

The two young queens shared a grin at that. It was well known throughout the kingdom that the High King Peter and his younger brother King Edmund were both quite the catch. Peter was a confident, handsome young man, his face the very picture of vitality and warmth. Edmund, on the other hand, exuded a quiet, brooding air that was not sullen so much as just… thinking. Both kings received almost daily requests from young daughters of lords for their hands in marriage; all had been politely declined. The four siblings only ever wanted none but each other for company throughout their lives.

The sisters soon reached the long bay, with its lovely white sand and scintillating azure water. They turned their horses to the shallows and eased them into a gallop. The pair were soon flying over the beach, golden sprays of water showering like sparks in the late evening sun. As they reached the end of the bay, Lucy began to grow uneasy, though she was not sure exactly why. Perhaps it was the lengthening shadows in the trees behind the dunes (though she had never been afraid of the dark). Or perhaps it was the fact that she could see a rip current up ahead (though she would not normally be wary of such a thing, as she knew that she and her sister could easily leave the water for that stretch of the beach)… It was then that she realised her sister was no longer beside her.

With a startled gasp, Lucy turned Mirum around to see her sister being dragged off her steed by a person clad in the traditional garb of the people of the southern isles. Lucy could see the face her sister wore – one of abject terror. She urged her horse to close the gap between them and bent low in the saddle to decrease air resistance – anything to let her reach Susan faster.

As Lucy neared the struggling pair, she slowed her mount and leapt off, rolling onto the packed sand and rising to her feet almost immediately, setting of at a sprint towards the brigand. The man released her sister and doubled over at the well-placed kick Lucy sent to his stomach. Continuing forward, the young royal stepped closer to the man and pinched the vein in the man's neck. Instantly, he sagged to the ground, unconscious.

"Lu! Oh Lu, thank you -"

"Su, my lovely sister, there is no need to thank me. I just did what anyone would do: help their sister when they're in need."

Susan smiled gratefully at her intrepid young sister. "Now," Lucy said tenderly, "Let's get you home so our esteemed brothers can fuss over you for the rest of the day."

"What about – _him_? I mean, what are we going to do to him? We can't just let him go." Susan's voice was still shaky and tearful.

Lucy's smile was just this side of feral as she suggested that: "I hear our dungeons are _particularly_ cold and horrid at this time of year, especially to attempted assassins of the crown."

Susan laughed, and Lucy grinned triumphantly at the happy sound. She heaved the limp body of the bandit onto the back of her steed (quietly apologising to her for the added weight), and swung herself lightly onto Mirum's back, Susan mirroring her action on Jubilee.

"Let's go home, sister."

And the two young women cantered lightly back to the castle of Cair Paravel.


End file.
